


First Taste

by BlancThePotatoMage



Series: Previously on... [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Human Genji Shimada, Jesse McCree is a Little Shit, M/M, McHanzo Week, Other, Scion Hanzo Shimada, Supervillains, Yakuza Genji Shimada, Yakuza Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26375596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlancThePotatoMage/pseuds/BlancThePotatoMage
Summary: Vigilante and Scion meet for the very first time in battle, Jesse and Hanzo meet for the very first time. They have no idea what they are~~
Relationships: Genji Shimada & Hanzo Shimada, Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada, Jesse McCree & Hanzo Shimada, Jesse McCree & Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Jesse McCree & Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Series: Previously on... [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849705
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	First Taste

Scion's leather gloves creak as he taps the edge of the polished wooden table, each rythmic, consecutive, tap sends his men sinking further and further into their chairs. They had failed him-- and anyone who knows the ruthless leader knew that failure was not permitted. The men sit in stoney silence. The air becomes thick-- hard to swallow. Scion finally fixed his gaze on them, freezing them into their seats; he takes a deep breath.

"You said...there was...a cowboy?" Scion asked, the question cutting to the men with disapointment. Dissatisfaction. The men swallowed, nodding frantically, greedy for an excuse.

"Yes! A cowboy, in a blue blanket-- he stopped us, we had to fl--" the last word was choked out of them as the Scion's gaze gripped them in an icy stare. Disapointment. Dissatisfaction. 

"One man, stopped ten of the highly skilled men I have you, and you were forced to flee?" Rage seethed between the dragon's, teeth-- barely contained. The men squirmed beneath the steely gaze.

"Not just a man! He called himself Vigilante, killed our men with a revolver in one shot!" One man raved, pulling from their seat. Scion feels a headache begin to hammer at his head, leaning his head into his hands as the others, spurred by the first man's outburst, continued. 

"His eyes were like fire-- I barely had the time to duck! He had the devil in hi--." Scion stood, fury bathing him in a black mask.

"WE! ARE! MORE POWERFUL! Than aNY DAMN DEMON!" Scion roared, "We are the clan of DRAGONS, we do not cower to lesser creatures!" The snarl of his teeth, burning with rage, the men quieted again. Scion takes a breath, pulling back. His men stared at him with wide dinner-plate eyes, wary as to a dog that could snap again at moment. A dragon deciding their fate with the tick of its claws on wood. "This is the the third time a single man has caused you to fail me. If you do not want to lead the next job, then I shall come, and deal with this "devil-man" personally." Scion glowers over his men. The air was palpable, in the hands of the dragon at the end of his table. He straightens, a sigh from his nose.

"Mr.Watanbe." The man straightens in his seat, trying to erase the fearful face as his Scion addresses them. But Scion knows, they still shake and squirm under his gaze, they fear him as is rightful. "You will be with me in the next attempt, and you will die with honor as you should have with your men." Scion takes satisfaction in the way they pale, going and making his way from the room. "Or, you will die like a coward here. Your choice of course--." Scion left the room in the still air of fate, the black heels of his black wingtip shoes clicking on the wood passage overlooking his estate. One year in America, and already they face new challenges, a man to step up to dragons.

The Scion's eyes glaze as he adjusts his raven hair back behind his ears, grown in length as a show of his stability, of his faith to his people. The storm grey eyes glance over the balcony, to the people hurrying to satisfy him, to keep him running. His assistant now hovers behind him. Perhaps-- he admits, it would be time for a trim, time for a war against the man who dare stare him in the eye. This-- will be exciting.

"Get me all the information you can on this, 'demon-man'; all sightings, all aliases, everything-- I will not be humiliated by a single man." Hanzo growls, the assistant agreeing without hesitation, bowing as she hustled away to give the clan's head everything he needs. This new opponent will not know what hit them.

\---

The report comes in from his boss, a buzz of his phone, and once again the new, unnamed threat was overtaking the city. Two times, and Jesse knows that three times the charm. He hopes Vigilante will finally be able to run them out for good, these school of loyalists, unnamed tattooed men stealing relics. His boss said it was a show of power, a new player in the game that was playing little fish with big plans. It was fish in a barrel to the gunman.

So once more he dawns the blue serape and suit, a black domino mask framing his eyes, tucking the length of his hair into his hat. Leather gloves rev the engine of his hover-cycle, and he was off for the next threat. This time, he'd run them out for good, unsuspecting of what he's truly going to meet.

McCree drove in to the blare of alarm and screaming people, police surrounding the building, Vigilante pulled to a stop. Jack-- otherwise known as John Morrison-- head of police was there to meet him. 

"You're late." They greet him, tone flat and uncharismatic, joyful as always. Jesse rolls his eyes, kept hidden under the brim of his hat.

"Ahm here now. Lay it on me coach." Vigilante pushes through the line of police as Jack lays out what happened. They're in the East wing of the museum, doors towards the north and northeast have been shut, but they haven't been able to get in. They've got hostages too-- they mean buisness this time-- Jack can confirm it's the same people as before, but there's a new leader that's making a stand-out amongst them. Vigilante takes note of that, pushing up towards the stairs to the museum, eager to take a closer looks.

"You got a plan this time or are you barging in again--."Jack asks, a warning in his voice. Vigilante can't help the smirk that rides his lips, chuckling.

"You doubtin' me now coach~?" Jack scowls, aged blue eyes glaring him down. Jesse puffs as he grips the door, going and slipped inside, leaving their stony glare behind. 

Inside was dark, the occasional flash of the emergency lights swam through the coridoors of the museum, casting skeletal lights over the tile. Vigilante stepped quietly, finding his way towards the west wing where they should have the men cornered. 

Vigilante walked into a dark room-- dinosaur armatures of massive predators reach with tooth and claw, casting jagged shadows that made him unsure what was figure and what was not. His hand brushes back his cloak, handling the flash bangs hung on his belt, eyeing the room as he slips in, slowly creeping in the darkened room. The quiet was foreboding. It clung to the fissured bone of a tyrannosaurus towering him, to the cloak and sucking the blue of his clothing, the only light filtering through dusty, wall length windows. Finally Vigilante heard something, freezing in place, his eyes narrowing. 

"Now--" a voice echoed, Vigilante glancing left and right as the smug voice bounced on the marble hall. "--who is this, wandering here~? Didn't anyone tell you the museum's closed~?" Vigilante could hear the smirk in their voice, the sarcasm that dropped from it. Without a visual on them, he was at risk so he decided he'd have to turn up the charm. Vigilante chuckles, straightening in his spot, a hand hanging on the BAMF buckle of his belt, silver and flashing in the minimal lighting.

"Just a little security~ Making sure a few missing hostages aren't getting themselves tangled in a Dino's ribcage." He responded casually, "Why don't you show yourself, and I can escort you out. Dear you'll get yer own ride to your very own jail cell~!" McCree promised, a soft chuckle returning their matching sarcasm.

"What a tempting offer, but I'm afraid that I've got other places to be. You see I just picked up this gem I have been dying to have~ You can have the people back-- no worries about that. I just had to borrow them a while." The voice responds. Finally-- a shadow. Vigilante caught it out of the corner of his brim hat, a figure dancing between the exhibits, not even a footstep heard by the lurking shadow. 

"Why, that sounds an awful lovely offer, but you see, ahm afraid that little gem belongs tah someone else." Vigilante steadies, tilting his head just a bit, giving himself a better visual, trigger hand itching for one of the stun grenades. 

"How unfortunate." The voice had taken a sudden dark note and Vigilante swung, the room opening up with a blinding flash, the grunt hit leading McCree into a swing, the satisfying yet swift punch landing into the head of one, knocking them to the ground, stunned-- the opportunity didn't last long.

McCree was hit from the side-- both sides, and it became more apparent he was being ambushed. His metal and flesh arms reached to grab them, stopping the twin blade nearly stuffed into his eyes, twin Japanese men-- similar to the grunts he'd fought the last two times, driving them nearly to home. He twisted, yanking them forward and bashing their heads together before tossing them like tissue paper.

Another came down, but he was far more prepared. A strike that would came for his shoulder was dodged, the second one at his back from a new man dived away from, taking out the first guy's legs to slam into the other, slamming them into the display case with a crash. He was panting by now, keeping his movements swift and his arms up, eyeing the shifting shadows as more of them ambushed him. More came for him, slashing for an opening, more men piling up on him-- and he was tiring quickly. He needed distance, so he thought quickly and headed for the tyrannosaurus skeleton. Vigilante dodged a few of his attackers biting at his heels like attack dogs, body slamming one unconcious as he began to climb the exhibit, the clunky bones disagreeing with his boots. Still-- it lengthened the distance between him and his attackers, giving him the moment, atop the dinosaur skull to pull out his trusty gun. 

"Deadeye's ready." His voice echoed through the dark of the museum, red skulls flashing into his vision, more and more beginning to appear. Where he couldn't see, the red appeared as his dead eye readies, and he began to feel the fuzzy weight of the power it gave. He was in over his head already. His arms moved on its own, slamming the safety again and again, spectral shots flying. One after the other. He didn't leave one standing. 

Well.

Until one jumped down in front of him from above. 

Vigilante was shoved from the top of the skull by the new figure, disadvantaged by his use of deadeye-- the new man leaped down on Jesse, the weight of their heel no doubt crushing a few ribs as they landed on him. Vigilante was seeing stars, breathless as this...figure leans over him, curtaining them in a mess of inky hair, dark as the shadow. Hard eyes glared down at them, half their face consumed by a mask. He could barely register the man as he groans in pain.

"What sort of demon are you~?" The figure asked, slapping away a hand as Vigilante tried to grab, to yank them off. He pants, feeling broken ribs threaten to pop his lungs. He grits his teeth, determinedly glaring back into those sharp eyes. "You took out my men--." The head honcho then, "--dispatched them with more bullets than your gun can hold." Jesse finally mustered up enough to do-- something.

He spit right in the man's face, blood or not he can't tell, but the flinch they made let him grab a fistful of that hair and yank them off, slamming their head against the tile, rushing to get back up-- head spinning-- before the honcho could.

They stood up, wiping off the saliva with a graceful disgust that made Vigilante's stomach roil with satisfaction. "You disgusting troll--." He hisses, rushing Vigilante right for his stomach. But Vigilante moved his arms swiftly, if only by instinct to catch their arm and pin them at an angle that thretened to break it. 

"I ain't no troll. Yer under arrest." Vigilante pants, if smirking behind his scarf. But the man proved tricky, slamming his head back into Vigilante's nose with a solid crack, causing him to stumble back, his vision blurring as the figure seemed to climb upwards-- somehow getting to the window.

Vigilante pulled his gun, panting, trying to focus enough. He fired, hitting their leg with a solid thunk-- but the man continued to move unapprehend, slipping away into the darkness again-- escaping. Fuck.

His arm swings down in exhaustion, shoving his gun into the holster, the heat of battle fighting with the strength of defeat. In at least one final effort, Vigilante hit the release switch, opening and unlocking the doors to the wing, officers swarming in, lighting up the room at last. McCree doesn't know if he has the patience to face Jack. Still, the hostages are safe, the grunts are dealt with and contained-- and that was going to have to be enough. Still, his mind nags him. Who was that? The boss figure was an intimidating and quick cut, escaping with the prize and leaving his men to be captured. Vigilante shakes his head, Jack finally approaching at the side.

"My men will wrap up here, any stragglers we need to know?" He asked, the cops moving victims and bullet-wounded grunts out the door. Vigilante sighs.

"The boss got out scot-free and with the statue, I don't know if there were others that went with him but--." He eyes the window the man escaped from, narrowing on the opened frame, "--He's long gone by now.". Jack curses, scowling. 

"You didn't stop him?" Vigilante shakes his head.

"Shot at 'im, but didn't hit or somethin', crawled out that window--." He gestures to the window tucked up by the ceiling, Jack eyeing the spot with critical thought and doubt.

"Way up there?" Vigilante nods. Jack hums, taking their word for it. "We'll get on the security cameras for outside the area, see if we can spot him. In the meantime, get out of here, get patched up and leave the detective work to us." He advises, pushing them their way to the window, turning back to commanding the other cops, helping untie a poor shaking woman and getting her to the ambulance teams outside.

Vigilante, bruised by defeat, steps out and down the stairs of the museum towards his hover-cycle again, straddling the leather waist of his ride. The pedestrians that line the blockade, staring at the wreckage, cheer to his appearance, riding away with his purring vehicle. He gives them a tip of his hat, letting their encouragement ease the tension of letting the big-bad escape. 

Meanwhile, Hanzo counts his dues. He had made it off with half his men downed in less than a minute. No doubt they'll all soon have escaped, but the losses were a present weight. This man...that demon's eye. He had seen it while above them, stalking them. That red glow...he knew that glow. It was vengence, it was self-righteousness, it was a demon, it was the devil itself. It burned at the back of his brain, made his tattoos itch as the spirits within them grew restless. They wanted a taste, they wanted to consume, to test this deadly force on their own. Hanzo admits, this new force,deadly as it was, is a challenge he didn't think he'd have to face.

A smile begins to cross his face, his dragons purring, rolling under his skin as the idea reached them. He was going to test this new force, and drive it to it's very limits~. First things first, he needed to bait this...demon out to face him again.

Another day rolled in, and Hanzo had set his new plan into motion. He was visiting another potential site, a famous land with hidden wealth the people had collected, and decidedly put on display. He had put out the rumor he would hit here next, and seeing how famous it is to this city, word spread fast. In his civilian alter ego, Hanzo was part of the crowd. 

His hair was pulled up in a tight bun and tail, revealing the shaved undercut he'd kept hidden as Scion, his clothes was much more modern now, more American in style, suitable for his fake background. Hanzo even had a seperate apartment, and was claimed as a competitive archer as to explain his physic. It was an admirable disguise, and with the shadows to aide him, Hanzo would not be recognized. Finally the man stepped out, fake apartment bought, moving among the crowds that barely there him the glance beside the occasional flirtatious look. He always rolled his eyes or ignored it, he wasn't interested in women, and most men are too afraid to be openly flirtatious with others they don't explicitly know returns the attraction.

Anyways-- Hanzo played tourist, taking pictures of some of the exhibits. There were trapastries taped with information boards explaining and translating the ruins. Not many others visited this center, taking no interest in the actual history of the place, rather they wanted to peek at the "shinies" they would never procure. Hanzo was in here for that reason however, searching for areas he could potentially sneak in from without much notice. Crevices like these would be perfect.

A flash of a camera took him from his thoughts, turning to the entry way, where a large man stood, camera in hand, smile bright as sun and curious as a coyote, unfortunately pointed at Hanzo himself. Hanzo rolls his cold, storm cloud, eyes as the man rolls up to him, camera in hand, and flashing a lanyard in his face.

"Jesse Moreys, writer for Overwatch Times, the local news hub. May I ask the name of the beautiful art piece I just took~?"  
The man was intrusive and loud, the camera next being shown, a picture of him, glancing about the tapestries in a mistified expression. He hadn't even realized he'd been looking like that. Hanzo puffs, removing the camera from his face, finally getting a good look at this strange man.

"You could have just said I was in the way of your picture." Hanzo posed, narrowing his eyes as if Jesse had done some inadvertently offensive. They had whiskey brown eyes, expressing flesh of sea blues in them as they reflect the light-- a bundle of messy dusty brown hair framed their face, long from their head down and heavy on the bangs, connecting sideburns leading to a grossly unkempt beard that seemed merely roughly trimmed. The man-- Jesse-- shook his head, finally getting the idea and giving Hanzo a bit of space. Still, he was relaxed in a pair of scuffed leather boots, resting back, giving a show of no harm.

"Woah there Rattler~ Didn't mean no harm, no foul-- just getting a few good shots of the kinda folk this place draws." Hanzo raises a brow to them, curious and impatient. "Yah know, there are quite a few cats that would love to get their mittens on all the expensive stuff here. Figured anyone who'd wanna visit places like this with people on the rise like that had to be fans."

Hanzo realizes they were right, and the researcher had put quite a bit of thought into this. After all, he was one of the only guests actually left appriciating the lesser known works. Even a few drifters would fall into place here, yet there were known. Hanzo hums, testing them.

"Well, with those villains comes heroes, no doubt we'd be perfectly safe with them around." He leads, hoping the...oddly dressed man would take the bait. Who wears flannel still--?? Jesse smiles, seeming to like the continuation, and Hanzo feels the journalist in them show. Heroes and villains were natural draws for drama after all. The man's face stretched into a grin, still sly and narrowed, seeking something from Hanzo.

"You mean Vigilante of course~ The man's quite a legend! You know he helped escort some of the prized jewels all the way from Arizona~?" He exclaims, excitement seeming out of place though-- still, the information was invaluable.

"You were the one who reporting on the effort~?" Hanzo prompts. The man nods proudly, all smirks.

"Of course~! Ahm always first to present on the word before the news gets their grubby little claws on mah story~." This was interesting to Hanzo, the reporter seemed to be able to predict these instances before they happen-- if they were ever able to beat live news at it's own game. Hanzo hums with interest, raising a brow, letting his body relax and show interest, the full body turn to them, a slight smirk matching the reporter's.

"How /do/ you ever get there so fast~?" He asks, a half step closer now with a roll on the heel of his boots. Jesse chuckles, hand up, although not backing off to Hanzo's approach.

"Reporter's secret darlin~," he chuckles warmly, a rasp to it that indicated the man as a smoker. Still, it didn't seem to tamper much with their voice, deep and honey-smooth. Either they have good taste or it's not very often they smoke.

"Perhaps you'd be willing to talk more with some coffee? There's a nice cafe down the street~." Hanzo tacks, pulling a thin, fake of course, buisness card from his pocket. Jesse seems to perk and even flush as he takes the card, reading it over.

"You asking me out archer~?" He teases, already a nickname from off the buisness card. Hanzo chuckles, smirking.

"I do not joke very often, Jesse Moreys of Overwatch-- I, however, simply asked if you wanted to talk more~ It is up to you, if you think it a date." At this point Hanzo had seen enough, the reporter would surely give him enough information. The less he appear in the security feeds, after all, the better. He watched as Jesse's grin stretched their face, and he leans to them, offering his arm invitingly, standing up straight.

"Ah don't think a few minutes off of work would hurt nobody~." He suggests, the camera pocketed and put away. Hanzo hums, taking their arm, warm skin under the cold hand of Hanzo's palm. They led Hanzo out, despite him being the one to initially introduce the coffee stop idea. The place is average in its astethic, thick, dark oak wood counters and bright, porclien whites, complicated by vines and plants that cling to the walls and bloom with pink blossoms that left Hanzo aching for Hanamura's tranquility. 

He was not here to reminisce however, and he turned his attention to the photographer as they sat down, nails momentarily knocking on the hardwood surfaces, settling into soft and comfortable leather-brown seats. The cowboy almost fit compatibly with the tones of the coffee shop, the render of strong coffee and light cigarettes complimenting. 

"So, you a museum buff or somethin'?" Hanzo hums, raising a brow to them. They brush their hair back at the hard glance, chuckling, "Ah mean, you weren't exactly in the most popular of places, an' with yer job ah figured you wouldn't be here in this little ol' city without some kind of incentive."

Hanzo hums, the man had a point, so Hanzo steers the conversation; he was here for a reason after all.

"Well, besides the interesting collection of artifacts and museums you have in your "little city", I've come due to the heroes, as mentioned earlier." He explains dutifully. A waitress then came by, asking about their drinks. McCree ordered, a "cup o'joe" as he so eloquently put it. Hanzo got a cup of black tea, hoping the little place would be able to brew something substantial.

Meanwhile, Jesse was brewing; he had gone to the museum after receiving a tip that the new comer's next but might end up being there. He hadn't meant to racially profile, but spotting a Japanese man of average build and similarly black hair, alone in one of the more isolated exhibits, well-- he had to try his luck. But this man, damn if he doesn't feeling bad about pulling them out if their day for a hunch, this man had every excuse under the sun to not be the new villain. 

Firstly, no scary, glowing blue eyes, archery to explain his physic, and an obvious undercut that Jesse admits would've been too hard to hide. If he was reaching, he'd say their interest in the heroes of the city would be something, but the fact is, anyone would be interested in that. Especially since he told them he was a reporter, he himself was supposed to be just some fan that took picture because he knew it was a draw.

Now he was cursing himself, having left his post, supposed to be taking picture of suspicious people to run through-- but instead he got a shot of an innocent. Well-- at the least he got to go on a date. A sorta date, anyways. He admits it's been a while since he's done anything as 'Jesse' and not 'Vigilante'. Maybe he'll be lucky enough to get laid.

The drinks come through, Jesse sipping the hot drink, letting the satisfaction of it cool the curl of anxiety in his stomach. He deserves of have a little 'Jesse' time, Vigilante has been taking up too much of his life, feeling less like an alter-ego and more of just an...ego; being the only thing besides his family he had.

"Jesse?" Came his date's voice, and he jumped back to the present, blinking, humming before shaking his head. 

"Oh, uhm-- sorry about that darlin'~." He chuckles, excusing himself, "Must'a been thinkin' too hard." He hears Hanzo chuckle in return, a deep, rustic thing, sweet and bitter as dark chocolate. He could get used to that. "Was just thinkin' that ah should get back to mAh pictures, and was thinking we could meet up again? Properly get to know each other~." He adds a flirtatious, tone, leaning forward in the leather seat, letting a smile crack his lips.

He sees the other man respond, a similar smile crossing them, before it was hidden by the tea cup, finishing off a slowly cooled brew.

"I think that would be wonderful~ I must be off myself after all." Hanzo adds, silently reminding himself to return to the museum, become a spectator to the heist that was about to go down. 

"Where yah off to?" Jesse asks, remembering that their job was merely seasonal.

"I plan to enjoy the many museums and other sites this city offers before I must be off." He adds, glancing to the people where a murmur was beginning to pick up. Jesse feels his phone buzz in his pocket of a text. "Although I believe I've met the best one here." 

Jesse chuckles, smiling with the unexpected reprise of a flirt, almost distracted from the TV, the new rattling on as the museum they are just was being raided. Almost. Jesse curses, standing, excusing himself-- pulling the phone out his pocket revealed a myriad of texts from his boss. Looks like he isn't done being Vigilante yet.

He shouts an apology back at Hanzo, racing out, camera out. Fuck-- he's gotta find a place to change! Jesse only paused when he heard footsteps following him, and, of course, Jesse's blessed bad luck creeps up on him. Hanzo was following him, keeping up with Jesse's longer strides. Of course they were following him! They're a fan, so that would've wanted to come and see "the Great Hero Vigilante". He's cursing himself-- now he'll have to lose them.

"Darlin', ah don't think followin' me is tha best idea--." Jesse advises as Hanzo matches his pace. He's panting, hard and fast, while a glance to Hanzo proves them keeping their breath steady, without hinderance-- perhaps he should lay off the cigarettes a little more. 

"Nonsense, seeing this fight is in my own personal interest." Hanzo argues, and inwardly Jesse groans; why did they have to be a hero buff!? Always the hot ones too-- Jesse shakes himself off, pulling forward and diving head-first into the crowd. The police have arrived, starting to push people back too, preventing them from trying to walk in and "hero".

He did his best to lose Hanzo in the crowd as it was pushed back, Jack even spotted him-- and making eye contact, Jesse slipped through the boarder the police were making.

"Jesse Moreys on Overwatch ne--." He's barely got his word out before Jack had his hands behind his back and was pressed against the car. Silently he cursed them for pressing on a particular bruise, but instead he continued with the reporter act. "Hey, what's the big idea!"

"No civilians beyond this point, we've got another hostage situation, they've doubled their numbers." Jack relays, allowing himself to be escorted away, back from the crowds to the side of the building. There, he let them go. Jesse flexed his shoulders.

"Could'a been a bit more gentle Cheif--." He sighs. Jack just shakes his head.

"Get changed, and meet me at the second entrance of the building-- I'm going to have you go in there with my men this time, so hurry up, we can't be waiting this long for you to get your act together." He commands, running off as Jesse mutters under his breath, removing his shirt.

Meanwhile, Hanzo got to watch as his new reporter friend seemingly got himself arrested. He could feel the way his eyes automatically rolled, how childish they had been. However so, he hopes they get the pictures they'd wanted. Still-- they weren't what he followed them for. The police chief was distracted enough that Hanzo slipped by better than what any other could claim, moving to the second building and scaling it, accessing the roof to peer down in through the skylights.

Here, he saw as Vigilante appeared once more, cohorts of armed police following him. They led into the room his people have already cut the lights to, a necessary advantage they have, no matter what little vision the skylight gives. He smiles to himself as he watches the cops fan out into the room-- his men shifting past them, unnoticed. Invisible.

They're already leading out what he'd desired, practically purring to himself-- a stroke of ego. However, his eyes trace the hero that skirts through the darkness with a renewed carefulness. They knew better-- and he watched the devil in their eye scope out the darkness.

Shots went out, watching as Vigilante catch his men with bullets. They move, slipping in and out of darkness, striking to the cops. One of them managed to stab them in the eye, more moving out of the shadows to overwhelm the group. From his view, Hanzo could see how they moved to protect Vigilante, they provided him cover for their remarkable aim.

Hanzo roiled, men shot down as they scrambled from the shields barred to their weapons, shot at as they reveal themselves, only for more to appear, like a Hydra with its head chopped off. But Hanzo wasn't satisfied, no-- he realized he liked the challenge Vigilante gave, the goading if his dragons rolling beneath his skin with approval.

"/ Ours~/"

They whispered into his ear, and Hanzo smiles. He steps from the skylight, changing on the roof, letting his hair loose to cover the undercut, pulling up his mask, clothes shifted to a more clean cut suit-- now Scion, he steps into the glass, and unlatched the lock, slipping in right above them.

Vigilante barely had the time to glance up before Scion landed in his shoulders and slammed them against the tile, scattering the cops and almost making him lose his hat with the way his head slammed the tiles floors-- vision swimming, the shadow of the leader pinning their fancy-ass shoes into his chest armor.

Scion's men swarmed in on the distraction, startling the cops, scattering them like rats. Scion slams his fist into the tile as Vigilante dodged, instead slamming his head into their jaw, dislodging them from on top of him-- head swimming as he rolled, grabbing his gun.

His arms swings to aim, but Scion's gloved hand slams successfully into his damaged nose, crying out a growl as blood begins to steadily pour out of his nose, stumbling backwards.

One of the grunts catch him, arms hooking under their arms, but Vigilante slams his elbow into their side, spinning and shooting them dead-center, only for Scion to slam his foot into the back of their knee-- dropping to the floor, arm wrapping his neck.

Vigilante chokes, writhing as their other arms tried to slam a knife through the slits of his body armor into his side. He reaches up however, flipping them completely over him, slamming their back into the tile, pressing his gun into their belly, pain and lack of air making his vision swim as they refused to release him. The bullet misses, Scion pulling them after him, pinning them, panting as he presses his knee into their back-- gun released, spitting blood and snot pouring from his nose.

Vigilante's luck pushes through however, as a police man slams their gun into Scion's jaw; Vigilante is dropped, gulping air like a fish out of water. Scion scowls as the police man interrupts him, pulling back and off the of Vigilante as they fire-- ducking behind a stand of museum valuables to catch his breath. Still, he's smiling.

The policeman chases, and it allows Scion to grab the hand with their gun, misfiring as he twists, snapping their arm inward. They scream, Hanzo slammng his knife into their chest, cutting them off. He did not care for the grunts, his aim was for Vigilante.

A bullet scrapes his arm-- one of his men having grabbed onto Vigilante as they fire. They struggled, allowing Hanzo to pull in close, slamming Vigilante into a wall, knocking the breath from their lungs. He swings his fist, driving the knife he'd left in their side in deeper, Vigilante giving a strangled scream, gripping Scion and kicking them into a glass case, shattering it.

He leaned, gritting his teeth and gripping the knife, pulling out with another drawn yell, throwing it to the side. Scion was struggling with another cop, who was attempting to pin them against the glass using their shield. Their numbers were dwindling on both sides, a mix of those dead, knocked out, or retreated. Jesse stalks for his gun, picking it off the ground, reloading.

Scion managed to slam a shard of glass into the policeman's eyes, yanking them off as Vigilante raises his gun, quickly fanning the hammer. Shards of glass are shot out of the air as, impossibly so, Scion uses the shattered case to strike the bullets out of the air, cutting up their hand. Vigilante rolls as the glass was flung at him like throwing knives, reloading his gun.

Sweat runs down his back, panting through his teeth. He needed space, needed to get further back. His focus was on the big bad, but this guy keep creeping in! Vigilante grunts, gripping the edge of the display case and using his arm to launch himself to his feet, running, spinning as Scion charged to them.

Vigilante fired as the man swung their feet, the bullet ricocheting, sparks flying, as it was kicked out of the air; Vigilante was slammed backwards as they hit their mark into his chest. It was only quick recovering that stopped their lunging at him, a blade slicing the serape and brushing his beard.

Their wrist was caught with his metal hand, allowing to catch the other and slam their back into a case with a harsh crack that Vigilante couldn't tell if it was the wood or their back. Still, the man fought, rolling with Vigilante in the glass. The hero had to admit, they were strong, extremely so, but he hoped his weight would win him the advantage.

Vigilante tried to play dirty, to slam their head into their's, but the lapse of focus had them slamming their knee directly into his crotch, causing him to wind and sputter. Scion grit his teeth, muscles straining against the larger man pressing him into the shards of glass. He needed to finish this, energy dwindling.

Hanzo reels his head and slams it into their's with a solid clunk, making both of them since back-- but it was enough. Vigilante swung himself over the case, signalling to his people; Scion had enough of the cops interrupting him, he wanted this hero tamed himself.

His men pushed as Vigilante recovers, taking aim once again-- but Scion had disapearred. His gun swung around the room, the ninjas dispersing, and for a second, he thought they'd gone. 

Instinct warned him otherwise.

Jesse was sent toppling as feet slammed him from behind, his guard having allowed him a moment to spin, practically catching the Yakuza boss in his arms as they fell back onto the floor. For a split second the Scion was pressed over top of him, eyes glaring into one another's, challenge in one another's reflection. Spirit meets spirit.

Vigilante raised his metal arm as Scion slams a knife down, catching the blade-- unbalancing them. He rolls, slamming their back into the glass, digging into the linen of their nice clothes. Using his weight, Vigilante pressed the knife back to them, the struggle intensifying as their arms shake with the effort to keep Jesse from jabbing him with his own knife. It was the opportunity Vigilante needed.

Quickly, he slams his head into their's again-- this time knocking them out. Vigilante panted, knife giving way, thrown to the side. Quickly, he had them arrested. 

Sweat beaded down his back from the fight, pulling from Scion's cuffed hands at last while they roused. Scion grit his teeth, but at least seemed to accept the defeat as officers pulled him and Vigilante to their feet; the ninja seemed to have scattered, and Vigilante can't help but chuckle at the lacking loyalty. Not to mention Scion's pissed off face made it worth it.

Vigilante revels in the praise of people as he steps out with Scion in cuffs, police men beside him. He let Jack pulls Scion into a cop car after a few pictures were snapped by the paparazzi, publically thanking the cops for helping him. It was mostly a publicity stunt, part of the agreement between him and the police department, so by doing this he could keep on "hero'ing". 

But of course, that's when he heard people exclaiming-- the big bad had taken off in the middle of his parading, people looking left and right without a glance of the villain. Silently Vigilante curses, heading from the museum to hop on his bike. Because of course, with luck like /his/ they just /have got/ to get away!

Jesse grit his teeth and drove off.

Another day passes, and Scion revels in the healing wounds that adorn him as he waves off the new items he'd aquired thanks to his men. Instead, his eyes were focused on the American News, smiling to himself as he watches the holo-paper buzz with the images of him and Vigilante on the steps of the broken-into museum. 

The scars were a pleasant buzz, an aching of sore muscles he hadn't felt in some time. It was entirely pleasurable, and Hanzo feels this would not be the last time he sees Vigilante.


End file.
